


Real Hustle Time

by balloonwhisk



Series: Some Kind of Monster [3]
Category: The Bright Sessions (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Being Human (UK) Fusion, Gen, but only mild ones, some references to body horror due to most of the characters being undead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 19:03:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15540933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balloonwhisk/pseuds/balloonwhisk
Summary: Sam and Damien attempt to do some home improvement to surprise Mark.





	Real Hustle Time

**Author's Note:**

> This one is kind of all over the place but I think there is some hint of a plot?? I'm not holding my breath but I'd like to at least get Joan in here eventually!
> 
> The title is from the show itself. One day I will write the marigolds scene somewhere in here! _One day!!_ Please let me know if you see any mistakes. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!

“Did you bring everything down? All the panels?”

“Yes.”

“The toolbag and the extension cord?”

“Yes.”

“And you got the drill from next door?

“Yeah, the big guy wasn’t there but the emo one knew where it was.”

“You’re going to have to learn their names eventually.”

“If you say so.”

Sam surveyed the supplies with a critical eye. She opened her mouth to ask about the vacuum again but stopped when Damien, having memorized the cycle of Sam’s worries by now, silently pointed at it. She nodded. “Okay, I think we’re ready to begin.”

“ _Finally._ ”

“So you drill and-” Damien snickered and Sam glared at him. He raised his hands in surrender. “ _You drill,_ ” she continued forcefully, “and I’ll hold the vacuum so we don’t get dust everywhere.”

“Yes ma’am.” Damien gave a mock salute and picked up the drill.

“What are you doing?”

Damien revved the drill. “Uhh... Drilling?”

“We have to see if the panels will fit and mark where everything goes first!”

“Well, why didn’t you say that?”

“I didn’t think I’d have to!” Sam grabbed the drill from Damien’s hand. “How have you managed to live for a century?”

“I’ve never needed to _build_ anything. If I wanted something I’d just, you know,” he waved a hand, “eat whoever had it and then take it.”

Sam kicked him in the shin.

“Ow! Obviously, I don’t do that anymore. No need to get violent.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “Behold! The fearsome undead...” She hefted one of the panels. “Help me get these into position, will you? I want to get this done before Mark gets home.”

“We should’ve just had him do this. He’s the one who’s actually good at this stuff.” Damien grumbled, but helped Sam lean the two mesh covered panels against the two sides of the alcove that would become Mark’s room. “He’s better than us at any rate,” he amended, remembering that Rose was refusing to speak to them since the bookcase incident two weeks ago.

“This way it’ll be a surprise.” Sam said.

“He was there when we bought it. We used his credit card.”

“I know. It’s just… I want to do something nice for him. He’s not been himself lately.”

“It’s all because of _Joanie_.” Damien sneered.

“What’s she like?”

“Bossy. Won’t give me the time of day, even though I’m his brother’s _best friend_ and I’ve been a perfect gentleman.” Damien ignored Sam’s disbelieving snort and concentrated on getting the gate in place. “You’d like her.”

Sam smiled, pleased. They worked quietly for a few minutes, trying to attach the gate and keeping the whole thing upright at the same time.

“She thinks I’m the reason he disappeared.” Damien explained as they struggled with the hinges.

“What?”

“That I somehow _made_ him leave.” Damien scoffed. “He was already on the run when we met. He would have died if it weren’t for me. Almost did. She should be grateful! Instead, she’s trying to steal him away.”

Sam fiddled with the screwdriver in her hand. “She’s his family.”

“Then what are we? We’re the ones taking care of him. She has no idea what we’ve been through.”

“That’s not her fault. How could she know?”

“Whose side are you on!?”

“Mark’s.”

“What happens when Mark tells her and she freaks out?” Damien demanded. “What are we going to do then?”

“Maybe she won’t. From all the stories Mark’s told about her, she’s always been there for him.”

“I don’t think we can use ‘willing to post bail for streaking’ as a benchmark for how she’d react to finding out her brother turns into a wolf every month. Humans tend to frown on that sort of thing. And run away.” He stepped back to look over the shoddy job they’d done so far. “And only return with backup and pitchforks.”

“Humans will surprise you.”

“Not in my experience.” Damien squinted at her. “Just for the record, this newfound optimism you’ve got going on is really annoying.”

Sam ignored him. “I’m worried, too. But also,” she continued, her voice going quiet, “I would have given anything to have my parents back.”

Damien looked stricken. “Sam-”

“They have a second chance. We can’t take that away from Mark.” Sam said firmly.

“I know,” he admitted, but he was very annoyed about it. “She’s just so infuriating. Thinks she’s got me all figured out. HA!”

“You want her to like you.” Sam said, delighted.

Damien crossed his arms and scowled.

“You do! You want her to approve of you!” Sam grinned at him, which made him scowl harder.

“I just don’t want her putting ideas in his head.”

“What ideas?”

“Ideas about leaving!”

“He wouldn’t just leave.” Sam said with conviction.

“How do you know that? Like you said, she is her _real_ family.” Damien sneered. “We’re nobody.”

“We are not nobody!” The lights above flickered, when they came on Sam had disappeared but the screwdriver was still hovering at waist-level.

“Sam?”

Sam waved the screwdriver in front of Damien’s face. He swatted it away. “Okay, okay, you’ll take my eye out!” The screwdriver floated down. Damien reached out to where Sam was slowly beginning to rematerialize. He tentatively cupped her elbow. “I’m sorry.”

Sam shook herself solid and stepped away from his hold.

“You alright?”

Sam nodded.

“Has this been happening a lot?”

Sam thought for a moment. “It’s been happening more and more this past month.”

“Since you met Chloe.” Damien muttered to himself.

“Chloe hasn’t done anything to me.” Sam protested.

“It’s not her, it’s what you two are doing.” On seeing Sam’s confused expression, Damien elaborated. “You’re digging into your death, right? Trying to figure out why you’re still here? That’s dangerous stuff. You never know what you might uncover.”

“Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“Honestly? I didn’t think you’d get very far.” Damien scratched his chin. “Chloe must be good.”

“She is.” Sam agreed, a small smile blooming on her face, unbidden. “But we’ve been taking it slow. There’s been so much to do here, what with Mark’s sister and the furniture and Darwin’s giving me the cold shoulder about something, and, of course, there’s _you_.” She jabbed a finger at him.

“Me?”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you disappearing every other night. I don’t sleep.”

“I’m not _disappearing_ , Jesus. I like taking walks sometimes. It clears my head. So what?”

“In the middle of the night?”

“Well, I can’t exactly wander the streets during the balmy summer days now, can I?”

Sam reluctantly conceded his point with a short tilt of her head, but continued to watch him suspiciously.

Damien avoided her gaze and picked up the first tool he could get his hands on. It was a wrench, which was useless in this situation but he stubbornly held onto it. “Are we doing this or what?”

Sam sighed and walked over to help. All the panels were standing crooked and they spent a long time futilely trying to get them straight.

“This isn’t going to work.” Sam finally admitted. “We need to take them all down and assemble on the floor.”

Damien stared at her incredulously. “You’re saying this _now?_ We’ve been at it all day Sam!”

“Calm down, it’s been an hour at the most.”

They were lowering down the gate when the front door opened on the floor above and someone walked into the house. They stopped and looked at each other in panic as Mark’s voice came through the open basement door. “Hey, buddy!” Darwin meowed and Mark chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, chin scratches are coming right up, just let me put these away first.” Mark moved around the house, banging cabinet doors and idly chatting with Darwin. “Anyone home?” he called out. “Where are you guys?” He walked closer to the basement stairs. “You down there?”

“Yeah, but we’re coming right up, you don’t need to come down.” Sam blurted. Damien shook his head in despair.

“Okay.” Mark jogged down the stairs. He took in the sight of the tools, metal frames and the frankly ridiculous amount of screws strewn on the basement floor and his dishevelled roommates standing in the middle of it all, trying to look nonchalant while holding up a giant gate. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing.” Damien drawled.

“We were trying to put them up before you came home.” Sam explained.

“Is that the cage?” Mark asked in an odd voice.

“Yeah. It actually came two days ago but we wanted it to be a surprise.”

Mark smiled at them, his eyes full of such tenderness that it made Sam blush and Damien turn away and busy himself with getting the gate out of her hands and placing it on the floor.

“As you can see, it didn’t work out so well.” Damien said.

“Of course it didn’t. Don’t you remember last time? Rose is still not answering my texts.”

“I don’t know why she’s still mad. She was only nailed to the wall for fifteen minutes. It’s not my fault Darwin hid the claw hammer.” Damien grumbled.

Mark raised his eyebrows. “It truly boggles the mind.” He grabbed their hands and pulled them towards the stairs. “Come on! There is still over a week until the full moon. We can deal with this tomorrow. I got pizza, beer and _Bringing Up Baby._ ”

Sam and Damien groaned in unison and let Mark drag them up for another night of listening to him gush about Cary Grant in a satin fur night robe.


End file.
